


Underneath the Mistletoe That Night

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Established Relationship, Everybody gets a kiss, F/M, First Kiss, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Most of them get lots of kisses, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13039443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: One little sprig of mistletoe can have a big impact.





	1. Clay and Frank

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paycheckgurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/gifts).



> Prompt: "Mistletoe. What you do with the rest of this prompt is up to you. Any ship."
> 
> Hi I'm a gigantic dork and I fucking love writing mistletoe kisses so here are five couples and more than five kisses.

**Deep 13**

“What the hell happened in here?” Clay asked in bemusement, kicking the door shut behind him since his arms were full of bags. Christmas shopping was one of his least favorite parts of the season, but at least Frank had volunteered to keep the kids occupied while Clay went to the mall to reduce the amount of begging he had to deal with. It looked like a Christmas bomb had detonated in his absence-- there was tinsel _everywhere_ , the tree that had been bare when he left was now ridiculously festooned, there were string lights decorating his lab equipment, and there was mistletoe hanging from the ceiling every few paces.

“They were so enthusiastic that I just couldn’t stop them,” Frank said, grinning as he looked around. “I think they did a good job, don’t you?” Clay sighed and dropped his bags on the floor in front of the tree, glad he’d sprung to have everything wrapped at the mall.

“You blame them, but neither of them can reach the ceiling,” Clay pointed out. 

“Kinga insisted on putting that all up. She was on my shoulders.”

“Sure, blame the kid.”

“Just watch her tomorrow, she looks so proud of herself every time she kisses someone on the cheek. I think you’ve got a little heartbreaker on your hands.”

“She definitely didn’t get that from me,” Clay said dryly, and Frank laughed.

“You’d better not break my heart.”

“Stop it, yes, from time to time. Replace it, maybe. But break it? No.” Frank glanced up and pulled Clay two steps to the left, then pursed his lips expectantly. Clay smirked and gave him a quick kiss. Frank pushed him three steps back and one right and demanded another kiss, and this one was a little less quick. By the time he’d guided Clay under every sprig of mistletoe in the room and they ended up on the couch underneath the most berry-laden sprig, he’d collected several kisses that were almost as long as he wanted. “Are you going to make this a thing until Christmas?” Clay asked in amusement as Frank cuddled up to him.

“Absolutely,” Frank said. “Or until you get tired of it and pull it down, anyways.”

“I think it might be a bit excessive in here,” Clay said.

“Spoilsport.”

“Well, I didn’t say we couldn’t relocate some of it. If Kinga put it all up, I’m assuming there’s none in the bedroom…”

“Do we need it in the bedroom?”

“We don’t _need_ it anywhere, but you seem to be enjoying the results.” Frank grinned, and the boyish excitement on his face was too much for Clay to resist, laughing as he leaned in to kiss him again. “And it’s such a small thing to make you happy.”

“You don’t need mistletoe to make me happy,” Frank said, “but it does help.” Clay stood up and reached up to pull down that sprig of mistletoe, twirling it between finger and thumb.

“I’m going to move this and see just how happy I can make you.” He started toward the bedroom and Frank popped off the couch to follow him, eager to find out just what Clay meant by that.


	2. Kinga and Max

**Moon 13**

“Wait,” Max said, one hand on Kinga’s shoulder. She turned around, one brow arched, and then her eyes went panicky wide when he leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

“What,” she said, slow and furious, “the hell. Do you think you’re doing.” Max swallowed, going pale, and pointed up at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the arch of the doorway. Kinga’s lips twitched into a snarl. “Did you put that there, you creep?”

“No! I didn’t-- I couldn’t even reach it,” Max sputtered in his own defense. “It was Terry, Terry put it up.”

“ _Why_?”

“Probably because he’s been working up the courage to kiss Synthia for weeks now?”

“What, really?” Her fury subsided into confusion. “You’re joking.”

“I’m really not.”

“...really?”

“Really.” She shook her head slightly, still not believing it, and Max sighed. “If you ever actually talked to the Boneheads instead of just ordering them around, you’d know a lot more about what goes on around here, you know.”

“That’s what I have you for,” she said.

“And this is me telling you what’s going on, and you don’t believe me, so obviously something here isn’t working out as planned.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, Max.” He sighed again and rubbed his temples briefly.

“I’m not being sassy, your she-vilness.”

“You’re being something.”

“Optimistic,” he muttered, and she glared at him. He quailed slightly. “Um, presumptuous?”

“Yes. You’re being presumptuous. Very much so. I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry, Kinga. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You meant to do something,” she said, still glaring. 

“Yeah, but making you angry isn’t what I meant to do.”

“What did you think you’d accomplish with this little stunt?”

“Obviously I thought that if I kissed you once you’d realize that you love me and everything would be great forever,” Max snarked, rolling his eyes. “It was spur of the moment, okay? I saw a chance and I took it. Don’t read into it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, and he sighed.

“You might as well just tell me what ridiculous act of penance you’re going to make me perform to get back in your good graces.”

“I’m tempted to put you on dino duty,” she said, and his eyes widened as the color drained from his face.

“No, I said I was sorry! Come on, you know I can’t outrun those things.”

“That’s the point.” He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged.

“That was not worth losing my life over,” he said, and when he pulled her into his arms she was too startled to struggle. This time when he kissed her it wasn’t a quick peck. She gasped and laced her fingers into his curls when he nibbled softly on her lower lip. Her intention was to pull him away, but somewhere between her brain and her hand the signal got crossed and she pulled him closer instead, and when the kiss ended neither of them moved immediately. “ _That_ was worth it,” he breathed against her lips. “And I’m not sorry for it.”

“Not even a little?”

“No. I can die happy now.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t have to what?”

“Die,” she said, and pulled back just far enough to look him in the eyes. “That was surprisingly passionate, coming from you.”

“It’s only surprising if you haven’t been paying attention. But you never do.”

“I might now.” He blinked and tilted his head slightly. 

“Really?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh.” He blinked a couple more times, not quite processing that, and she smirked and took a step back.

“Tell Terry to take it down,” she said. “If he wants to kiss Synthia, he needs to use his words.”

“That’s fair.”

“And if you ever want to do that again, so do you.”

“I-- wait, what?” Kinga’s smirk widened, and she turned and walked away, leaving Max with his mouth hanging open in confusion behind her.


	3. Kinga and Jonah

**Moon 13, take two**

Another Sunday, another show open. Jonah had struggled the first few times, but between the cattle prod and the threat of oxygen deprivation he'd learned that just going along with it was the least painful option. When he went to get out of the Backjack this time, though, he found his way blocked by Kinga.

"Excuse me," he said, as polite as he could stand to be to her, and she shook her head and stood her ground. "...you're wrecking the show open," he pointed out, a little hesitantly, and she rolled her eyes and pointed up. Attached to the doorway of the Backjack was a small sprig of leaves and white berries. Jonah blinked, looked at Kinga, looked back at the mistletoe, and looked back at Kinga. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," she said, scowling. "Some things are more important than the show."

"Are you okay? Do you feel well? I don't think I've ever heard you say anything like that before." He put one hand against her forehead and she slapped it away irritably.

"I'm _fine_."

"You feel feverish to me."

"I run hot, okay? Shut up and smooch me, idiot."

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean why? Because I said so, that's why. Ratings or no ratings, I'm not gonna marry a bad kisser."

"I'm not a bad kisser," Jonah said, a little offended, and Kinga rolled her eyes and reached up to wrap her hand in the collar of his t-shirt and yank him down. He had to bend pretty far for her to reach him, but he went along with it easily enough. She didn't kiss him, though, just stared at him from very close. Her eyes were almost as green as the mistletoe's leaves.

"Well?" she said impatiently after a moment. He tried not to sigh. For a split second he wondered if kissing her badly meant she'd give up on the whole ratings stunt wedding idea, but his sense of pride wouldn't let him screw it up on purpose, especially when it would probably backfire on him anyways. After a moment the demand in her gaze turned into trepidation, and-- oh, hell, even if she was evil, he wasn't going to make her cry. He cupped her cheek in one big hand and sweetly pressed his lips to hers.

"Ow!" She bit his lower lip. Of course she bit him. He didn't know why he expected anything else to happen. The 'ow' was more from being startled than being hurt, though, and it... honestly felt pretty interesting. She pulled back and gave him a critical look.

"I wouldn't call you a bad kisser," she said. "But I wouldn't call you a good one either. Is that the best you can do?"

"Not by a long shot."

"Then step it up, Heston!" She tapped his cheek patronizingly, and his eyes narrowed. Step it up? He could do that. If he wasn't going to get the cattle prod for being assertive, he might as well seize the moment, right?

Kinga made a sound that he would have called a whimper from anyone besides the woman who got to control his ability to breathe when he dipped her back and kissed her fiercely this time. She tasted like peppermint schnapps when he slid his tongue between her lips. _"I run hot," my ass,_ he thought, trying not to laugh when she dug a hand into his hair and kept him right where he was. One kiss became two, and two became several, and by the time she let go of him they were both breathless and flushed.

"Okay," she said, touching two fingers to her lips. Her skin was scuffed pink from his scruff after the number of kisses they’d traded. "Wow."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let it go to your head," she said immediately, and he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, you'll do."

"Thanks, I think."

“We have to restart the show open,” she said, but she was giving him a speculative up-and-down look that he didn’t trust. “But since we have to start over anyways, it doesn’t matter if we take a little more time…” She pushed against his chest with one finger and he let her guide him back into the Backjack and into the driver’s seat. “So we might as well take the time,” she purred, insinuating herself into his lap. 

Oh, he was so doomed, but at least it was the fun kind of doomed.


	4. Jonah and Max

**Moon 13, take three**

“What’s going on?” Jonah asked suspiciously as he poked his head out of the Backjack. “This isn’t a show open.”

“No, it’s not,” Max said. “It’s the Moon 13 holiday party.” He was wearing a Santa hat and an ugly Christmas sweater. The huge room was festooned with lights and tinsel, and the Skeleton Crew band was playing Last Christmas. Jonah didn’t exit the Backjack.

“What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know, what do you usually do at parties?”

“Uh… drink too much and do something regrettable, usually.”

“...okay, sure, whatever,” Max said. “That’s probably about what Kinga’s expecting, honestly. Will you come out of there already?” Hesitantly, Jonah stepped out of the Backjack, and Max shook his head. “She probably wants to dance with you. She definitely doesn’t want to dance with me.”

“Do you dance?” Jonah asked curiously.

“Of course I dance,” Max said, indignant. “I look like a dork when I do it, but that doesn’t stop me.”

“It wouldn’t,” Jonah said, and Max rolled his eyes and waved vaguely into the room.

“Go mingle or something. Get a drink, make a song request, whatever. She’ll probably shoot you back upstairs when she gets whatever it is she wants from you.”

“That’s not a very strong incentive to give it to her,” Jonah said, and Max shrugged one shoulder.

“I’m not your babysitter. Do whatever you want to do. She’s not armed tonight, you won’t get the cattle prod.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Sure, no problem.” Max walked off, and Jonah looked around for a moment before heading in the same direction Max went, which seemed to be where the refreshments were. 

“What’s alcoholic?” he asked the Bonehead behind the drinks table, who snorted a laugh.

“Everything.”

“What’s the most alcoholic?”

“How bad a hangover can you deal with?”

“I almost never get a hangover.”

“Famous last words,” the Bonehead said, and handed him a bottle. “Here, try this.”

“What is it?”

“Fifty proof red wine.”

“I didn’t know wine came that strong.”

“Welcome to the Moon,” the Bonehead said. “I don’t think I want to waste our liquor on a human liver, but that should do you fine.”

“Cheers,” Jonah said.

“Oh my god, Cherry, _no_ ,” Max said, catching Jonah by the wrist before he could lift the bottle. “What are you trying to do handing him that whole bottle, make him go comatose?”

“Look, just because _you’re_ a lightweight--” the Bonehead started.

“You almost killed me!”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Uh… _yours_?”

“Take some personal responsibility, Max,” Cherry said, nose turning up. “And let the man live!”

“Um… maybe I shouldn’t,” Jonah said, putting the bottle back down. “Do you have anything a little less likely to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Coward.” Cherry handed him a different bottle. “There you go, that’s only ten percent. A nice weak Earth-equivalent beer for the weak-ass humans.”

“You don’t have to be offensive,” Max said. “You’re lucky you can digest alcohol at all, Kinga was considering writing that out of your genetic code entirely.”

“Why didn’t she?” Jonah asked.

“Because she didn’t expect anyone to start brewing on the Moon so she thought it wouldn’t matter.”

“Yeah right,” Cherry said. “You’re all lucky I’m here.”

“Again, you almost killed me.”

“Keep whining about it and I might make a more earnest attempt.” 

“Hey, that’s uncalled for,” Jonah said. “Thanks for the beer. C’mon, you need some breathing room,” he told Max, one hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and guiding him away from the brewmaster Bonehead. Max shrugged off Jonah’s hand and scowled at him.

“I don’t need you to defend me.”

“God, you’re prickly tonight. What’s your deal?”

“Oh, I don’t know, no one respects me at all, Kinga laughed in my face when I asked her to dance, I had to help decorate for this stupid party and everyone’s giving me a wide berth every time I have to walk under the stupid mistletoe--”

“Mistletoe?” Max’s lip curled and he pointed off to the left where, yes, there was a little sprig of mistletoe hanging over where a few Boneheads were dancing.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take my bad mood out on you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jonah said. “But thank you for doing it anyways.” Max shrugged a little hopelessly, looked around, and sighed.

“I think I’m just going to call it a night.”

“Well, wait a second…” This time Max didn’t shrug off Jonah’s hand on his shoulder. “Want to dance?”

“What, me?” Jonah nodded. “With you?” He nodded again. “ _You_ want to dance with _me_ ,” Max said in disbelief. “And you’re sober.”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“Yes,” Max said flatly. “It is. Who put you up to this?”

“Jeez, Max, paranoid much?”

“It’s not paranoia when someone’s actually out to get you.”

“I’m not out to get you. I’m trying to keep you from having a totally miserable night.” Jonah took a few steps to put the bottle down on the refreshments table, then turned back around and offered a hand to Max. “Come on. You said you dance like a dork. Well, so do I. I won’t laugh at you if you won’t laugh at me.” Max looked up at him, suspicion writ large across his features, and then he sighed and took Jonah’s hand.

“What the hell. I might as well.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jonah said, leading him over to where the others were dancing. He wondered if Max wasn’t correct about someone being out to get him when the music almost immediately changed to a slow, bluesy version of what Jonah quickly identified as the song River, which was actually one of his favorite Christmas songs, but… yeah, turning it into a slow dance as soon as he got Max on the dance floor was suspicious. Max hesitated, staring straight up at Jonah with his lip between his teeth.

“You don’t have to--”

“Shhh,” Jonah said, curling his hands over Max’s shoulders. “Just go with it, okay?” Max hesitated a second longer and then put his hands on Jonah’s waist.

“Okay. Whatever you say.” For a minute it was kind of awkward, but as soon as Max relaxed and leaned into Jonah as they swayed together it became almost comfortable. Neither of them noticed that no one else had stayed on the dance floor-- Max was looking straight up and Jonah was looking straight down and for the minute nothing else seemed important. By the end of the song, the look of disbelief on Max’s face had melted into a smile, and on impulse, Jonah caught Max’s face between his hands and leaned down to give him a sweet, soft kiss. When he pulled away, Max looked absolutely dumbfounded, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before he pointed several feet to their left. “The… the mistletoe is over there…”

“Oops,” Jonah said, not repentant in the slightest as he guided Max to the left and then kissed him again. “Is that better?”

“Y-yeah…” 

“What the _actual_ fuck?” Kinga’s voice was shrill. Max flinched, but Jonah just winked at him and turned to defuse her temper as best he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cherry the Bonehead brewmaster belongs to heyhayley!


	5. Kinga, Max, and Jonah

**Moon 13, take four**

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Max said, holding the ladder steady.

"It's a great idea," Kinga said, pinning the mistletoe to the ceiling above the couch. She folded her arms along the top of the ladder and frowned down at him. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Sort of. I'm still in favor of kissing, but maybe we should just... ask him?"

"Just ask him. Right. And how would you phrase that request, exactly?"

"I don't know, but asking is better than just kissing him, isn't it?"

"I didn't ask the first time I kissed you."

"You didn't have to ask, you knew I wanted you to do it. We have no reason to think that he wants to be kissed by either of us, let alone both of us."

"Don't worry so much," she said, descending the ladder and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "The element of surprise will work in our favor. Trust me."

"I usually do," he said, "but I'm not sure about this time."

"Look, you're the one who wanted to kiss him, I just--"

"Oh no, no you don't. You can't put this all on me. You want to kiss him too."

"Well, yeah. And this is the quickest way to do it."

"But what if he freaks out?"

"Max. We're talking about Jonah. He doesn't 'freak out'. He's a giant teddy bear."

"Yeah, that's true."

"If he's not into it, we'll just send him back up. It'll be fine."

"...what if he is into it?"

"Then we won't, and we find out how interesting things can get." Max flushed slightly thinking about things getting interesting, and Kinga smirked. "Don't get ahead of yourself, but stop worrying about it. Get that ladder out of here and I'll go snag him."

"I was in the middle of decorating with the bots," Jonah said when the tube spat him out in front of Kinga. He had a little plastic spray of holly in one hand and tinsel looped around his shoulders.

"They'll manage without you for a little while," she said, reaching up to tug the tinsel around his neck a little snug for his comfort and using it to pull him down. "This might not take long."

"This being...? Hey!" The protest came when Kinga tied a strip of cloth over Jonah's eyes, glasses included. He straightened up and reached for it and she smacked his hand. "Ow! Kinga, what's going on?"

"You'll see. Here, follow me." She slid her hand into the hand she'd slapped and pulled him in her wake. He hesitated and she tugged his hand. "Come on, I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's unusual," he muttered. By the time they made it to the couch, the ladder was gone and Max was back, wide-eyed at the sight of a blindfolded Jonah being lead by the hand. Did she forget to mention that part of her plan? Oh well.

"Sit down," Kinga said, and Jonah felt around in front of him blindly, found the couch, and sat down, hands folded on his knees.

"Will you tell me what's going on now?" There was more curiosity than worry in his voice. Kinga and Max shared a glance, and she waved him toward Jonah. Max hesitated only a second before he knelt on the couch facing Jonah, cupping his cheek and leaning in to kiss him gently. "Wha--?" Jonah didn't pull away, though, and after a moment he kissed back. "You're not Kinga," he said after their lips parted.

"No, I'm not," Max said.

"I am," she said, and turned Jonah's head so she could kiss him too. She pulled the blindfold off mid-smooch but he didn't open his eyes until well after she drew away. 

"What the sweet fancy hell is going on here? Anyone?" Both of them pointed up, and Jonah glanced above his head. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"Merry Christmas?" Max ventured, and Jonah snorted.

"Was that intended as a gift or just a convenient excuse?"

"A little bit of both," Kinga said.

"Well, I didn't get you anything, so I think I'd like to regift them," Jonah said, and he beckoned Max closer. "This one's for you." Unsurprisingly, Jonah was a much better kisser when he wasn't being surprised by the kiss. Max let out a deep, heartfelt sigh when Jonah let go of him.

"Wow." Jonah grinned and winked at him before turning to Kinga.

"Where's mine?"

"Was this your idea?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You're the evil mastermind here, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Take credit for your evil plans, then."

"I mean, this is pretty lowkey evil."

"I'm trying to give you a compliment," Jonah laughed, and kissed the surprised look right off her face. "Thanks, this wasn't a half bad present."

"You're not a half bad kisser."

"So you're not mad," Max said.

"I'm confused," Jonah said, "but not mad. This is... out of the blue, but I kind of really miss being kissed, you know?"

"We could probably do something about that, if you wanted," Max said.

"As long as you don't blindfold me every single time."

"Does that mean you're open to being blindfolded some of the time?" Kinga asked with great interest.

"You go from zero to sixty in point five seconds, huh?" Jonah asked.

"Constantly," Max said. "But it's fun when it's not terrifying."

"I guess I'll find out," Jonah said.

"Pretty quickly," Kinga said, and leaned in to kiss him again.


	6. Joel and Mike

**Earth**

“Don’t put that there,” Joel said, and Mike turned with a question in his eyes and the mistletoe raised above his head still. Joel leaned up to kiss him softly, and then suggested, “Put it by the kitchen instead.”

“You told me not to put it by the kitchen last year,” Mike said.

“That was last year. Things are different this year.” Tom and Crow tended to get a little weird about mistletoe, but Mike liked to put it up, so Joel was used to finding places to put it that didn’t mean they’d be tripping over the bots constantly. This year, though… Joel was finding it hard to get into the holiday spirit without his kids there. At least they knew where the bots were, but that was cold comfort when they’d been returned to captivity aboard the Satellite of Love. “You might as well put it where we’ll walk under it a lot.” Mike lowered the hand with the mistletoe in it and put his free hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, honey, don’t worry about me.” If it had been up to Joel, he might have skipped decorating entirely, but Mike was determined to carry on as close to normal as they could manage when they were reminded every day how not normal things were with the glaring absence of the bots making their little house far too silent. Joel looked around the living room decorated in twinkling lights and pine boughs and offered Mike a smile. “You did a great job in here.”

“Ah, it’s all right.” Mike crossed the room to attach the mistletoe to the door frame between the living room and the kitchen, and he turned around and crossed his arms, looking around with a certain blankness in his gaze that Joel was all too familiar with now. “Should we hang all the stockings?”

“That’s up to you,” Joel said. 

“I don’t know if it would make things better or worse,” Mike sighed. He walked over to the tote he’d been pulling decorations out of and unfolded the sheaf of stockings, each with a name embroidered at the top. Slowly, he traced a fingertip across the thread spelling out ‘Crow’ and sighed again. “Just… tell me what to do this time?” Joel came up next to him and eased the stockings out of his hands, dropping them back into the tote before taking Mike’s hands in his own.

“I think it might be more distressing than reassuring,” he said softly. “Maybe we shouldn’t hang any this year.”

“You’re probably right.” Mike’s eyes started to fill with tears, and Joel’s eyes widened from their normally sleepy gaze.

“Oh, no… shh, come here.” He moved the tote off the couch and pulled Mike down to sit with him, strong arms wrapping around him securely. “It’s going to be okay. I hate not having them here too, but at least they’re together. That’s the thought that got me through after I left them with you, and it’ll have to do for us now that they’ve been taken from us. Okay?”

“They’re-- they’re fine,” Mike said tremulously. “They’re with Jonah and he seems like a good guy.”

“Right, exactly. We know where they are and who they’re with, and they’re okay. But you know what… I bet they’re worried about us too.”

“You think so?”

“Of course. But they’re probably telling each other the same thing I’m telling you.”

“At least we’re together. At least we still have each other.”

“Exactly.” Mike dropped his head onto Joel’s shoulder, and Joel curled a hand over the back of his neck, rubbing gently. “It’ll be all right. I promise. We’ll get them back. We will.”

“Do you really think so?” Mike’s voice was muffled into Joel’s sweater.

“Oh, sweetie, if I could find a way back up to the SOL eighteen years ago, you think I can’t do it again with better technology now? I’m working on it. I was never just going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs with my kids kidnapped, you know?”

“Yeah… of course not. You’re Joel Robinson, nothing stands in your way for long.”

“That might be overstating it a bit…”

“I have faith in you,” Mike said, lifting his head to look Joel in the eyes. “You’ve pulled off miracles before. You can do it again.”

“That’s the plan,” Joel said, not quite as sure of himself as Mike seemed to be, but hoping that Mike’s confidence wasn’t misplaced.


End file.
